


Advantage 2

by Grimmy88



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy88/pseuds/Grimmy88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellis takes matters into his own hands to get Nick where he wants him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advantage 2

            Okay, so Rochelle was unconscious.

            And apparently, according to Coach, it was all Nick’s fault. The conman had been throwing up against a wall in the nearest safe room, a whopping two-hundred yards away to make sure he knew it. He had all but snarled the words, the bridge of his nose ridged and wrinkled to mirror the sound.

            Ellis had promptly intervened, ensuring that Nick’s brains didn’t become a permanent fixture against the loud, markered words printed on the stripping paint.

            When he’d thanked the kid, however, he’d received a glare—probably the first the brat had ever given anybody.

            Which surprised the hell out of Nick because he had been so sure of the younger man’s man-crush on him. For Christ’s sake, he was sure the kid’s metaphorical hard-on was visible from miles.

            Then again, siding with the larger, southern coach he’d probably somehow obscurely known before? Nick couldn’t really blame him, the odds were better. Even if the logic behind it all was fucked.

            Trudging through knee-deep water and being twenty feet behind the female didn’t mean it had been his fault. Because both Coach and Ellis had been even further away, ahead of them clearing the path, while the two northerners had been wearing shoes that weighed them down and hindered their trek through the mud.

            And Nick had made sure to stay behind their reporter for just that reason. But predictably the distance had grown between them through the on and off again random infected. He’d started running, knees high so that he could get out of the water as much as possible, just as the Tank busted through a house to their left.

            The door—the whole goddamn thing—flung outwards and collided against the water in a loud snap, its girth sending the water cracking back against the conman who, for once, ignored the bitter taste and the fact that he could barely see to shout at his teammates and begin firing.

            And usually that was enough to draw the attention of the oversized beast, the sounds and the pain from the constant stream of bullets, but it acted as if Nick weren’t there.

            Because it had seen the bright pink of Rochelle’s shirt first.

            Now, each of them had taken their fair share of swats from the thick fists of a tank during their travels and those had only resulted in a few bruises and bumps. But that had been because of swift feet and dry land.

            And Rochelle had been bogged down in the worst kind of condition.

            So when the Tank flung its arm out she caught all of it and flew back into the fence behind her, one boot still stuck in the mud where she had been standing. She didn’t move to get up.

            That’s when Nick finally managed to get over. His M16 continued to fire away, ammo wasting, and when it clicked silent he had to spend the precious time to fish more bullets out of his pocket.

            And through it all he hadn’t stopped running closer, hoping that the firepower from his other teammates would be enough to down the creature.

            And his incorrect guess/hope resulted in one of those fists driving into his torso, sending him sprawling and then splashing too far away once again.

            The monster had given chase, lumbering with the help of its knuckles and arms and pitiful, tiny legs, as if the water were as thin as air. Nick stood and sloshed and raised his arms to block his own bones, but instead the thing stumbled and rolled, grunting at his feet.

            Coach and Ellis both lowered their guns at the same time.

            When they raced back to their fallen comrade, motionless and small, the first collective thought was death. But her chest was moving, even if just barely. She was alive, for that moment anyway. So they did the only thing they could by bringing her to the next safe house and making her comfortable.

            And he didn’t think about blaming himself, until Coach did.

            The fast-food lover refused to leave her in the tiny room alone. Although Nick would’ve stayed in the safe room alone versus having to go out and risk his ass, no matter how many people were with him. He chose to keep his opinion to himself as he didn’t want to misplace the lack of communications between himself and the other two men.

            So, casually, as if they were going out to get fucking bread from a store, Ellis offered up both his services and the ex-con’s.

            It was a stupid plan, Coach said so aloud and Nick glared as hard as he could about it—but there was no way they could leave Rochelle alone nor was there any way they could tell when she would wake up. If they waited too long Virgil might take it as a sign of their failure and move on.

            And as much as Nick wanted to see Rochelle open her eyes again, he’d prefer it was on the boat anyway, when they were away from danger and wouldn’t have some sort of clumsy recoil from her accident slowing them down.

            So the two younger men went out into the storms, through Witches, another Tank, quite a few Hunters, and two Smokers who seemed very adamant on only catching the young hick. Nothing did catch the kid though, because losing him meant losing himself. Without someone to watch their backs they’d die.

            Besides, there was no way in Hell he was going to let something get Ellis and have that on his conscience, too. Man-crush or not he wasn’t about to lose the only ally he had in their group of four.

            As much as he liked Rochelle he was sure none of it was returned. And he could deal with Coach because the man provided the infected with a bigger target. Not to mention that he could probably sit on Nick and it would be the equivalent of being pounded by a Charger. So he gave them both fake smiles, saved their asses in return for saving his, and kept his attention on the yellow-shirted mechanic who was constantly at his side.

            So maybe that was why, when they’d finally reached the gas station and attached the fuel tanks to their backs, two for the both of them, Nick halted the kid with a hand to his wrist. He hadn’t meant to make contact but once it stuck he didn’t pull his fingers away.

            “Why the fuck are you pissed at me, too?”

            “I ain’t,” the hick said, readily, turning with the hand.

            “Really? Because I could’ve sworn you gave me a pissy look earlier. Or am I just seeing things?”

            “I dunno,” Ellis murmured. “I was juss worried.” He put his hand atop Nick’s gently. “I was pissed at myself more’n you anyway. Shouldn’ta gotten so far from y’all. Me an’ you coulda taken that thing out ‘fore it even reached her if I’d stayed with you.”

            “She’s still alive, Overalls.”

            The hick smiled a little and then rubbed the hand under his for a moment. “Tank hit you, too. Y’alright?”

            “I’m fine,” Nick answered, withdrawing the hand. The kid’s touched had numbed it somehow. “Just didn’t want you siding with Coach. Expect it from Rochelle, not you.”

            “Why not me?”

            Nick didn’t answer, he just opened the door back to where night had taken the sky and made it gloomier than before.

 

            Through the streaming horde (attracted by the brilliant Burger Tank sign), special infected, and yet another Tank, Nick saved both Coach and Ellis twice. Two Smokers, a Jockey, and a Hunter.

            Coach had been busy guarding Rochelle, he had her behind the counter, laying on what would normally cook the greasy burger patties while he alternated between doorways filled with rotting, walking killers. Ellis had been near some of the windows proving that he just might like being the target of long, slimy tongues and freakish, little, hopping ghouls. And Nick had been running between them, to ease up the crushing crowd on Coach or to save him from that Hunter, and then back to Ellis who seemed to be the magnet of everything else.

            And once they managed to elude yet another Tank by escaping onto Virgil’s boat only Ellis bothered to thank him.

            Their eldest member just watched as the land was swallowed up by the gloom of the fog and mist.

            “Coach,” Ellis tried, though Nick didn’t know why he even bothered.

            The former football star didn’t turn.

            “Save it, Ellis,” Nick spoke instead. He dropped the fuel tanks from his back, hooking his arms around so he could put pressure on his throbbing lower back. “He’s already made up his mind. Because, you know, I planned on letting that Tank take her out so I could save my own skin. Nevermind the katana still stuck in that thing’s fucking skull or anything.”

            “Nick.”

            “Ain’t blaming you anymore, Nick,” Coach said. “Me and Ellis were even further away. But why that thing went after her… it ain’t fair.”

            “No,” Nick agreed. “Fair would’ve been me instead.”

            “That’s not what he meant,” Ellis interjected.

            “Fair would’ve been any of us instead,” Coach countered. “Anyone of us should’ve been the ones, not her.”

            “And if you had to pick I was the ideal choice, right?”

            “Wasn’t horrified by the idea,” the oldest man said, chest puffing out as he dropped the fuel tanks he had taken from Ellis onto the floorboards. “Don’t be tryin’ to start somethin’ with me, boy.”

            “Why? Because you’re all broken up?” Nick stepped up to meet him, giving him a firm shove that thankfully wasn’t reciprocated. “It’s not like she died and it’s not like I ran away.”

            “No,” Coach agreed, “you didn’t. But all that time you spent reloadin’ could’ve been spent better with that sword.”

            The gambler shoved him again, nowhere near as hard this time. He just wanted space—any distance that would make sure he didn’t have to smell the older man’s breath again, anyway.

            Ellis moved in, once again, wrapping his arms up underneath the conman’s armpits so he could pull him backwards. Nick didn’t put up much of a struggle; he wasn’t interested in a fist fight with the high school coach. He just wasn’t interested in letting his challenged ego go undefended either.

            “Nick, just drop it. Wekin go in the cabin.”

            “So he can tell me he wants me dead but I can’t return the sentiment?” Nick glanced over his shoulder at the mechanic’s face, worried and dirtied. “Besides, it’s not like his fat ass was moving any faster. Not that it could’ve, I’m sure.” He turned his face back, wanting to see the rage and pain on the dark face before him.

            Instead he saw another fist and then nothing else.

 

            He woke to a hum and slight pulse of pain along the bridge of his nose, upwards towards the space between his brows. Every few seconds a barely-cold, moist pressure would block out three of the pulses. It would disappear again before it could help with the forth.

            Ellis was seated next to him, hatless, on one of the cots, hunkered over a bottle of lotion in his hands. He spurted a little bit of the whiteness onto his fingers and turned to hunch back over the gambler, pressing his cooled fingers to the line of pain down the center of his face.

            “Y’alright?” He asked when he realized Nick’s eyes were open.

            “Depends on how it looks.”

            “Well, wekin be twins now,” Ellis said, taking his fingers away once again.

            “Then no I’m not fucking alright.”

            “I toldjya-ta stop. …Sorry.”

            “I did stop,” Nick snapped. He sighed and moved to sit up. And when he couldn’t he looked down, realizing what the hick was apologizing about.

            And how he hadn’t felt it when he’d first woken, the clumsy binding of his hands behind his back and looped about his chest, he couldn’t fucking figure.

            “What. The. Fuck?”

            “Coach didn’t wantchya-ta wake up pissed an’ go after ‘im; not when he finally got Rochelle-ta wake up.”

            “So you fucking tied me up?” Nick turned on his side so he could attempt to fumble his hands from the biting rope. “Look,” he continued after several moments full of failed attempts, “the last thing I want is a fat fist in my face again, okay? Untie me.”

            Ellis turned and put the lotion aside, up beside the pillow, and shuffled down instead. Propped on his elbow he reached his free, coated fingers out to Nick’s nose again. When he finished he wiped them on the blanket between them.

            When they were dry he replaced them onto Nick’s cheek.

            The ex-con remained silent, watching the hick slide his body down farther onto the bed, making their faces even and level. He felt the pressure from Ellis’ touch behind the curve of his jaw, egging him forward, egging him to lift his face. So he did.

            And he was rewarded with the redneck’s plump mouth, working in soft, circular motions against his.

            So much for the ‘metaphorical’ hard-on.

            The callused hand moved back, into his hair, the pressure still there. It was Ellis who moved closer, however. It was Ellis whose mouth opened and welcomed the older man’s tongue inside. It was Ellis who pressed his chest up against the ropes willingly.

            The kid didn’t meet his eyes when he finally moved away from the kiss. Instead he moved his hand, downwards to where the gambler’s blue dress shirt opened and pushed.

            Nick went onto his back easily, wishing he could raise his arms up above his head instead of having his weight pressing them down into the hard mattress. But when Ellis’ hand dipped down into the opening of his shirt, below its open line, only to come back out so he could unbutton the fabric Nick let the thought go unspoken.

            Ellis would have to untie him if he wanted the shirt off completely, anyway.

            So he met the eager lips above him again, teasing them with a flick of tongue and a brush of teeth. And when the hick’s leg settled over his own, bent and rubbing, he welcomed the weight, giving a roll of his hips when Ellis’ thigh slid high enough to brush the crotch of his pants.

            It had the double-fold affect he’d thought it’d have on the younger survivor; enough to draw him out of his lust-driven attack on the card shark’s mouth but not enough to force his body away.

            Nick craned his neck so he could brush his lips against Ellis’, careful of their bruised, matching noses. “Come here.” And luckily, surprisingly, the mechanic knew what he meant and obeyed with a quick reposition of his body.

            With the weight of his legs, as he kept his hands near either side of the older man’s jaw, Ellis maneuvered atop the lying man, hips upon hips, back hunched, and mouth open and hot.

            Nick didn’t wait too long before rolling his hips up against the boy’s ass. And while his cock and pelvis and every other region around there enjoyed it his arms screamed his heartbeats and prickled with numb needles.

            Ellis barely moved with the motion, obviously unfamiliar with the concept of teasing because sitting there like a fucking stone, arousing and playful with any other partner, was goddamn irritating.

            By the third roll Nick had managed to rub a spot, maybe the back of the mechanic’s balls or his perineum, which forced the mouth on his own to jerk upwards and away, gasping and vocal.

            The conman waited a moment, in the slightest bit of awe from the way Ellis’ head had tilted backwards, straining the lines and muscles of his neck. And somewhere between it all the boy’s hands had moved to Nick’s chest, petting the spaces in between the twisted binds.

            “Move your hips,” he whispered finally.

            He almost regretted the order when the hick started, rocking with abandon, rocking like he’d been waiting to be told. And he looked down between them so he could watch the bouncing hips, the way the mechanic’s suit stretched about his thighs, the hunch of Ellis’ back and how it sucked in his already-slender stomach.

            And dammit if he didn’t want his hands free so that he could feel that stomach and then those thighs, backwards to direct the frantic hips with biting finger-touches of his own.

            His soon-to-be-lover leaned back down again so he could mash their faces together, unskilled and almost painful in the way his head worked back and forth, in their way their noses pushed back and forth.

            This time Nick was forced to turn his face away but before the kid could comment he leaned back so that he could press steamed kisses to any part of the hick’s face, jaw, and neck he could reach.

            When Ellis’ mouth neared his again he flicked out his tongue, catching the upward motion of the soft upper lip. “You want me?”

            The blue eyes shut, tightly. But the curly head nodded following the motions set by their hips, following the motion set by their lips, just touching with fleeting softness.

            “Yeah?” A harder kiss.

            Ellis nodded again.

            “You want me to fuck you?” Because Nick was fine with comforting the hick through sex. Hell, he’d be good at it, too. “You have to untie me.”

            Ellis kissed him even harder this time in place of a response. But when they were finished he rose up and hurriedly shed himself of his no-longer-yellow shirt. And apparently he didn’t want to be too far from the card shark because he used one arm beside said shark to lean his weight while his other fiddled with the tie of his cover-alls.

            When at last the sleeves unraveled all the hick had to do was kick a few times, push the hem of his boxers down, hook the curve of his foot within the blue legs and tug. The heavy material did the rest, dragging away boxers and socks.

            Again, Ellis didn’t look up, not that he needed to. Nick could see the pink skin, extended from his flaming cheeks all the way down his neck onto the expanse of his upper chest.

            The blue eyes did move from the shed clothing, to the gambler’s belt and white dress pants, still very much obscuring and restricting. And when he quickly rid them both of the offense Nick gave a thankful grunt and a lift of his hips which Ellis readily straddled again.

            Now Nick had never had another man’s cock against his own nor had he ever had his own dick up inside another’s ass but that didn’t mean he was naïve. Nor was he unfamiliar, at least as far as gay porn went. As long as that lotion hadn’t fallen from where it was placed and his arms were unbound there was no doubt in his mind he was going to get both himself and the redneck off.

            He had to wonder how many people Ellis had ever ground out against, though, because the kid’s head was back again, adam’s apple all but popping through his neck, and cock straining hard against Nick’s own.

            When the younger man paused, repositioning to sit up with his hands back on Nick’s chest so he could steady himself the conman gave a roll of his own hips, his cock slipping between the boy’s ass cheeks.

            And that’s when, finally, the blue eyes bugged open to meet Nick’s.

            “Get the rope off me,” Nick said.

             Ellis reached between them to fondle his own cock. “Then you’ll fuck me.”

            Hearing the kid swear was a common occurrence, but hearing him use it with sex… Maybe Nick should’ve chosen a better word.

            “Then I’m going to flip you over and take you, yeah.” He waited and watched the bruised face as it presented each profile, equal in etched thought.

            Ellis leaned back down so he could rub against the hard body beneath him once again. “But I wanna walk.”

            “You’ll walk,” Nick assured, watching.

            “You don’t gotta walk,” the southerner responded. “Coach ain’t gonna wantch’ya outta this room fer a while.”

            “No.”

            But Ellis was already moving, shuffling off the bound man. Nick flailed out his first leg, trying to plant his foot somewhere firm enough on the other man so he could shove him back. However the hick, probably with some weird redneck wrestling ability, managed to catch the thigh coming and with one quick movement slipped between it and its twin.

            Nick didn’t struggle further. “Coach didn’t tie me down.”

            “I already said I was sorry.”

            “You’d better hope I don’t get my hands free.”

            Ellis didn’t respond, instead he leant his body up, reaching for the bottle of lotion he had discarded. When his chest neared Nick’s mouth the older man bucked up, catching the side of the boy’s pectoral between his teeth. There was a resounding gasp but the conman let his young teammate go—mostly because he tasted like sweat.

            And the other part was because he didn’t want to hurt the hick. Or be hurt by the hick. From his position and binding there was no way he was going to get Ellis off track. The only possibility was straining a muscle trying to get his legs back around the strong arms or straining a muscle when the redneck folded him in half for even bothering.

            So he watched silently, wrinkling and pursing his face when Ellis smeared his hands with the lotion.

            Goddamn lonely fucking boat captain.

            Nick bit his lip to stay silent as Ellis moved forward, using the broadness of his shoulders to lift the older man’s thick, furred thighs. And then his fingers, two at first, touched at the opening Nick had never considered an opening.

            The first of the two slipped in, full and small, weird and unwelcome. The second slipped in, only up until the first knuckle. And Nick could feel his body contract around it, trying to push the intrusion out.

            Ellis was actually looking this time. “Don’t be mad at me.”

            “A little late for that,” Nick bit out. “You’d better PRAY I…” And he was going to continue, until suddenly Ellis’s second finger slipped in like there was never any resistance at all.

            Dammit.

            The third didn’t go in so easily, instead the mechanic began to scissor the two digits already occupying the space, stretching the sensitive skin and nerves and muscle and whatever the hell else. And after several moments when he tried again his third finger pressed in, snug and firm.

            Ellis pulled away then, letting Nick sigh out the awkward stretch and reposition his hips. He watched the southerner move back to his side so he could lie down on his back and spread some more lotion over his stiff cock this time. After several huffing moments he turned back to Nick, reaching his arm across the larger body. “C’mere.”

            “Yeah and how do you want me to do that?”

            The hick gave him a tug and then another when he realized that the conman wasn’t going to put any of his own weight into the movement. And after a few more yanks Nick let himself be dragged, let himself rest atop the younger man’s body.

            And when Ellis sat up he moved with him, finding a seat in the redneck’s lap, the boy’s now slick cock against the crease of his ass.

            And then his young lover kissed him and slipped inside, painful and deep, but Nick still bothered to return the pressure of lips.

            Ellis didn’t move, save for his rampant, excited hands and the upturn of his face so he could bury it within the other man’s neck. Because he was giving Nick some sort of control. Control he probably didn’t expect the northerner to take advantage of.

            But with a quick bounce and then roll of hips Nick already had the kid blushing, panting, as if they’d been fucking non-stop instead of the uncomfortable, tight, unsure motion they’d been engaged in for thirty seconds.

            And for some reason, in as much as it was rough and difficult and awkward, Nick didn’t go flaccid. Instead, as Ellis wrapped his arms about the older man, forcing their torsos together, his cock remained rigid and firm, encased by the warm of their skin.

            And he figured maybe that was because of Ellis himself—of the way his skin was flushed and he was obviously new to the whole act, the way that his hips were rolling and bouncing in urgency, and the way that he wouldn’t last much longer.

            And maybe it was because as soon as they were done he was going to make sure he fucked the kid three times in a row, ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to walk until they got to New Orleans.

            Ellis gave a moan then and his hips and legs jerked once and then he was thrusting up and hard, small, pushing motions that stabbed upwards and hurt. And then all he felt was the contraction of muscles, arms, legs, cock, before the mechanic loosened his hold.

            Loosened but didn’t remove. Nor did he remove his head from the ex-con’s neck. So Nick waited there, feeling the way their pulses counteracted each other’s—Ellis’ fast and snapping, his own quick but docile.

            “Untie me, now.”

            “Yer gonna punch me.” The thick words were muffled by Nick’s skin.

            “The thought crossed my mind.”

            Warm hands moved up and down his back twice before they drifted away completely. Ellis leant back to reach into the drawers at their side. While he was preoccupied Nick managed to dislodge himself from the rapidly shrinking cock. He turned his back to the hick and waited, impatient.

            When the rope was finally cut the boy’s weight didn’t move from the bed. Even as it was hurriedly unwound and tossed aside there was no movement. Instead Nick turned back to look at Ellis, who had lain back against the pillows to watch him with heavily lidded eyes.

            “Your turn?” And the kid actually began to lift his legs.

            Nick lifted his hands to rub at the rawness on his arms where the ropes had bitten, watching. “Yeah, but put your legs down.”

            The lean legs did as they were told and Ellis lay there, flat and prone, looking as if he were about to fall asleep. Well, until Nick straddled his chest anyway.

            The kid’s first instinct was to move his hands up so the gambler redirected them to his thighs. And then he redirected his dick, still firm and long, to the plump lips before it. “Suck.”

            He made sure only half of his dick disappeared within the un-experienced mouth. He made sure to pull back when the hick’s closed eyes squinted and created fragile lines. He made sure to put one of his hands in Ellis’ hair and stroke the curls.

            And he sure as hell made sure to bark orders. “Watch the teeth, brat.”

            Ellis’ eyes opened to look up at him, creasing in a smile his mouth couldn’t form. And then they closed again, slow and almost tantalizing, as the hick began to move his neck back and forth, opening his jaw wider and breathing heavily through his nostrils.

            The gambler moved his other hand to the younger man’s head so he could cup his face with the gentle, brushing pads of his fingers. And then, as slow as he could, began to push in and out of his mouth, just those few inches.

            Ellis took it for longer than Nick had expected. When he finally withdrew the kid turned his face, panting in order to regain his lost breath. He turned back after a moment but didn’t open his mouth again.

            So Nick wrapped his own hand back around the length again and stroked, quickly, before tapping the head of the straining organ against those closed lips. They parted, just barely, in awe, blue eyes mirroring the emotion.

            And then with a few more quick strokes, a flick of his thumb over the head and slit, Nick let his orgasm fall against the mechanic’s lips, thick and moist.

            Ellis hadn’t stopped watching him. His hands dug into the thighs he’d been holding and his tongue flicked out, smoothing the white liquid into clear, smoothing it further into his mouth.

            And Nick got off Ellis, immediately, so that he could raise the redneck’s legs and proceed to fuck him into the mattress.

           

            


End file.
